


The Floor Show

by SaintedStars



Series: The Floor Show Verse [1]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angel Dust Being Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust in Drag (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust-Typical Sexual Content (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Cinnamon Roll Charlie Magne, Dancing and Singing, Flirting, Flustered Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Inspired by Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (Musical), Inspired by Music, Inspired by The Rocky Horror Picture Show, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Performing Arts, Pole Dancing, Rocky Horror Picture Show References, Song: Touch-a Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me (Rocky Horror Picture Show), Songfic, Valentino Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Vox Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), inspired by Cabaret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:35:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28817190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintedStars/pseuds/SaintedStars
Summary: A brand new club is being opened in Hell and Valentino wants his shining Star, Angel Dust to perform on opening night.Angel is determined to blow the audience's socks off. He just needs to work around the little, positively tiny problem of the songs Val chose.He unwittingly drags the rest of the Hotel gang along with him.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust/Valentino (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: The Floor Show Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173770
Comments: 5
Kudos: 74





	1. Rehearsal

Chapter 1

Rehearsal

There were parts to being an entertainer in Hell that you just couldn’t be too prepared for, even if you had been doing it for decades. One of which was when your boss would spring an entirely new style and demand that you perform an entire fucking show in it!

That was Angel’s current predicament.

He had been sent a message that morning, accompanied by the lyrics and music for some new songs that Val wanted him to learn, along with the command, not a request, of course not, why would Valentino ever request anything of him when he could just fucking order him to do it instead, that he learn it all before some big ceremony in a few days.

When he had gotten some coffee laden with his preferred number of spoonfuls of sugar, though maybe it would be better to call it coffee flavoured sugar at the number had left the single digits, into his system and his head wasn’t swimming anymore, he pulled out his phone and scanned the message again, his still sleep-filled eyes picking out phrases and pulling them together in his head.

_Show_

_New club_

_Vox_

_Style_

_Perform_

_Do this_

_Rewarded_

Wait was that about a reward? Angel shook himself more awake, catching the attention of the others gathered around the breakfast table, as had been commanded by Princess Perky in one of her many attempts at ‘team bonding’.

Yeah, right. Like he’d bond with the Radio Demon. Maybe when he could be sure that that sausage he was eating was actually meat and not schmuck who had crossed his path whilst the creepy fuck was feeling peckish.

He rubbed his eyes with his lower pair of hands, the top pair being occupied by his coffee mug and his phone respectively, scrolling back up to the top of the message and rereading for the third time.

_Angelcakes_

_I’ve got some new songs I need you to perform for me at the Grand Opening of my new club, the Theatre. These need to be nailed by this time next week or else. Something like this should be just what you need after all of those nights you’ve been spending on the corner._

_Do this right for me and I’ll make sure that it’s worth your while. I’ve got some of that stuff you like and you want to make me happy, don’t you?_

_Be at the Studio in two days and come on time._

_Val_

The unspoken threat made the coffee in Angel’s stomach gurgle uncomfortably and he tried to smother it with a bite of an apple that he took from the bowl in the centre of the table. It was almost impossible for anything living to grow down in Hell but apparently Lucifer made exceptions for apples.

Big surprise.

He had less than a week to not only learn three new songs for the opening of Valentino’s new club but each of them were drastically different in tone and style. One was a pretty standard cabaret number, all flouncing, and innuendo. Altogether Angel’s bread and butter on stage. It even seemed like something that would right at home in one of his drag performances, as the singer appeared to be female. But it was the other two that posed more of a challenge.

The second seemed to be more about teasing than anything too forward, unlike his usual shows that were all about showing off what he had and more. Nothing about the song was too complicated but would still need more finesse for him to get across convincingly. It was hard to pin down the era, maybe early 40s or earlier. He had never left New York before his death but he had the feeling, from the way that the introduction was worded, that this took place in somewhere like Germany or France. Somewhere that those scum-sucking Nazis had taken over. It would be something for the research part.

The final one was where all pretence was thrown out of the window. The lyrics were far more straight forward about what the singer wanted and they seemed to be singing to someone in particular. Who that was would be something else that he would have to look up. He also wanted to find out who the hell these other characters in the song were? Were they going to be played by other dancers that Val had ordered to take part in this? Whoever it was had to be better than the dumb fucks that he usually had to act alongside when he was on camera. Seriously, what did a bitch have to do to get some co-stars who could fucking act?

But that was why he was the one on the posters and those dipshits couldn’t even get their names up.

Thank Satan for the wonders of the internet. It would be all he’d need to get a taste for what he was getting himself into and he knew that he could blow these broads out of the water.

Most didn’t realise just how seriously Angel took his performing gigs. They probably thought that all he did was shake his ass against a pole and flash the goods for the drooling masses but there was a lot more to it. Hours of rehearsals where he had to go through every step again and again until he was sick to double-death of them and even that wouldn’t be enough for Val.

Then there was costumes, even if most of them wound up scattered around the stage or in the hands of his less-than-appealing admirers, lighting, sound checks and then it would be all put together into what was hopefully a spectacular performance but Val was picky. Picky and impossible to impress. Angel would spend hours on stage performing routines that he had grown to loathe all because the Moth couldn’t be satisfied with his best, regardless of his protests. He would be booted back onto the stage and made to go until he was ready to drop!

He put his all into his performances because it was better than getting plowed by a faceless, talentless asshole on camera and it was far better than picking up random Johns on the corner.

In this case, it meant he was going to have to get his ass up and get rehearsing as soon as possible. That meant-

“Princess, I’m gonna need ta use the parlour for the rest of the day. Everyone else needs ta stay out.” He instructed, getting up from his seat with his coffee and apple still in hand as he slid his phone away.

“What do you need it for?” Charlie asked, looking up from her plate.

“Nunya…” Angel replied bluntly, not even sparing her a glance.

Vaggie, sensing the oncoming punchline, reached out to stop Charlie but she was too late.

“What’s ‘nunya’?” The Princess asked.

“Nunya business.” Angel cackled, tossing his head back and leaving the room with a taunting flourish.

Charlie drew back, looking back down at the table-top. Vaggie comfortingly placed a hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder, Charlie smiling back at her with a thankful look. Alastor had been watching the entire exchange with an amused, close-mouthed smile that belied how much entertainment he was really getting out of this.

“Well, I think, upon that riveting exchange, that it is up to us to find out what our eight-legged companion has planned.” He declared, already feeling out through the hotel with his magic to get a sense of Angel’s movements. He would have tried to listen in on his room, through the sound system that made up the veins of the Hotel, but he had made that mistake once and, unless someone was dying, he had no intention of making it again.

He likely wouldn’t have if it was Angel who was dying.

“You don’t think he’s up to something shady, do you?” Charlie, bless her for believing in the best in everyone, asked.

“Ha ha ho! Oh no, my dear. I just think that it would be in the best interest of all involved to keep an eye on him.” Alastor flexed his fingers and his microphone sprung into existence. Husk sensed the approaching danger and his fur puffed up in alarm, grabbing the Prairie oyster that he had been putting together to soothe his ever-present hangover and escaping towards the bar.

“I’m out!” He announced as he slipped through the door.

He knew better than to be around when Alastor had the idea in his mind of using some mischief and, like his entrance to the Hotel itself, he usually had to be dragged in and bribed before he got involved. He wasn’t going to give Alastor that chance this time.

Niffty, however, was the sort to have her ear open for every bit of gossip and she wanted to know everyone’s business. It was the side benefit of being the busy-body that she was. The kind who couldn’t let mess rest long enough to stick without getting an itch under her skin that demanded she clean it.

She was the first person to see Angel up and about after leaving his room, carrying a group of thin, metal rods and dressed in an ensemble that none of them had ever seen him wear before. It was similar to the clothing that one would wear to an aerobics class in the 80s. A tight black leotard covered up his top half as well as a pair of shorts looked painted on. A pair of surprisingly low-heeled boots were adorning his feet, though given Angel’s repeated insistence on how much he hated the sight of his own feet, that wasn’t much of a surprise. He had a pair of headphones on his head and a mat was rolled up underneath his other arm.

Niffty, watching through a crack in the door, observed Angel pushing aside the sofas and setting up his performance space, anchoring the rods into place on the floor and screwing one into another to create a surprisingly solid pole.

Angel tested out his handiwork by doing a few experimental swings around it and, satisfied with his work, pulled his hellphone from it’s regular holding place in his chest fluff. When you didn’t have pockets, there had to be somewhere that he could rely on to hold what was important, whether that be his phone or a baggie of his drug of choice.

He pulled up Voxtube and typed in the title of the song that had been vexing him so. An ad and some old guy’s narration later, the music began. It started off slow, with a tentative, female voice singing as Angel warmed himself up, getting into the flow of the music.

He placed two of his hands on the pole and lifted his leg up, leaning his body downwards as a counterweight, reaching up with his other hands and stretching himself out. He repeated this on the other side as the chorus kicked in, sinking into a split with his arms stretching out in opposite directions.

He knew better than to try any kind of dancing without a decent warm up first, even if it was happening as you were running up on stage.

Val hadn’t said anything about what kind of choreography he was going to be working with but that was his usual M.O. Leaving it up to his imagination and then kicking his expectations in the teeth by demanding something completely different be performed seamlessly.

“Niffty, what the fuck are you doing?” Husk asked, unable to keep his curiosity at bay any longer. He had been standing in his usual place behind the bar, watching the diminutive cyclops peering into the parlour for what felt like an age and he just couldn’t stop himself from needing to find out what the hell she was watching that was so captivating. Niffty barely gave him a glance, shushing him quickly and gesturing for him to come over.

Usually Husk would have preferred to rip his wings off than go anywhere near wherever the overly-flirtatious spider had set himself up but he had never seen Niffty be this absorbed into anything short of the hottest new romance novel.

He cracked open the door a little further so he could see better, the hinges creaking softly and he was glad, for once, that Angel had his headphones on and was too absorbed in his warm up routine to pay attention to them. Husk had never realised just how flexible the spider was until now.

He was his back, rolling his body up and down in repetitive motions until he was able to lift himself up onto his hands and feet, his back bent in an arch. Angel lowered himself back down to the floor carefully and rolled onto his front, rising up in another arch, his legs spread a little this time and then leaning downwards into what appeared to be a yoga position but for the life of him, Husk couldn’t remember it’s name.

“Downward Dog…” Niffty whispered, her notebook in hand and pencil writing feverishly across the page.

“Eh?” Husk asked in an undertone.

“That’s called the ‘Downward dog Husk.” She explained and Husk shot a bewildered look down at her. How the hell did she know what he was thinking?

“What are you two doing?” Came a voice from the other side of the room, Husk pulling his head away from the door to see who it was and a confused looking Charlie and Vaggie met his gaze.

“We think we found what the spiders up to.” He explained, jabbing in the door’s direction with his thumb and going back to watching. He’d never admit it but Angel had talent and you could see his experience coming through with how precise and sure his movements were.

“What are you… Oh…” Charlie breathed, squeezing her way through the two to look in and Husk could feel Vaggie leaning over him as well. She was barely taller than him but he was crouching and she had the perfect view past his ears.

Angel, still oblivious to their presence, was in a split again, this time his top half bent over his outstretched leg with one pair of arms grasping the tip of his shoe. He appeared to be reaching the end of his warm up and he kicked the mat away as he straightened up.

Angel walked over to where he had placed his phone and scanned the screen for a second, the light reflecting into his face. He wished that he could print out the sheet music and lyrics that he had been sent, scrolling around it on his screen could only do so much but he didn’t want the Princess and co. to know what he was doing. They would probably try to stop him and Val would probably break his legs if he tried to say he couldn’t do the show.

“Well isn’t this quite the menagerie? What are we all staring at?” Alastor piped up from right behind the group huddled around the door, making them jump. Husk, his fur standing on end again, turned around to shoot a glare at him.

“Al! You have got to see this!” Charlie whispered, gesturing excitedly. She had never seen Angel in his ‘performance’ head space and she had been dying to get a glimpse ever since she had accidentally forgotten about the show he had given them all tickets to.

Alastor gave them a considering look, then, with a tap of the end of his microphone on the floor, his shadow stretched itself out, pulling off of the floor to become it’s own being, going from 2-D to three dimensional, Alastor’s grin stretched out over it’s face.

Even when he was eavesdropping, Alastor’s five-foot rule remained firm.

Angel had pulled off his headphones, probably so that he could hear himself sing, and placed them to the side, tapping the screen of his own a few times and then placing it down on the floor, positioning himself by the pole in preparation for… whatever it was he was listening to, to start over again.

_“I was feeling done in, couldn't win…”_ He began, his voice coming out tremulous, almost timid.

 _“I'd only ever kissed before…”_ The last note lingered in the air, sounding so sincere, his door-lurking audience was tempted to believe it.

_“You mean she?”_

_“Uh-huh…”_ Two unknown voices sounded from his phone’s speakers, acting as Angel’s co-stars.

_“I thought theres no use getting, into heavy petting…”_ Angel trailed his hands down his body, tilting his head back against the metal of the pole.

 _“It only leads to trouble and…”_ He kicked his legs up, hoisting himself up into the air.

 _“Seat wetting…”_ Angel held his hand by his mouth, acting embarrassed, like someone had caught him in the middle of something private and intimate.

A steady high counted him in, tapping lightly to keep the beat.

_“Now all I want to know, is how to go…”_ Angel’s voice had changed, becoming more confident. More like himself.

 _“I've tasted blood and I want more!”_ He locked his legs around the pole and tilted himself, going into a flat-line. Husk’s jaw dropped.

_“More, more, more!”_ Echoed the two invisible actors enticingly.

_“I'll put up no resistance, I want to stay the distance…”_ Angel flipped upright, twirling around the pole once then stopping, both feet on the ground.

 _“I've got an itch to scratch, I need assistance…”_ He leaned forwards, walking two fingers down his legs and racking them back up through his fur.

_“Toucha, toucha, toucha, touch me!” H_ is head tossed from side to side, both sets of hands running all over his body.

 _“I wanna be dirty!”_ He turned back towards the pole, peering over his shoulder as if flirting with his invisible audience.

_“Thrill me, chill me, fullfill me…”_ He wrapped a leg around the pole, climbing up in time with the music.

 _“Creature of the night…”_ He spun around again, his free arms extended outwards.

Charlie had never seen anyone perform like this. This wasn’t just a routine, this was Angel in his element! She couldn’t remember if she had ever seen him so free, so uninhibited, free of the pains of his reality and the stress of his situation.

She didn’t have time to think about this further before the piano picked up again.

_“Then if anything grows,”_ Angel giggled, his eyes moving up and down as if sizing up a potential partner.

 _“While you pose…”_ He came down onto the ground again, moving on his hands and knees.

 _“I'll oil you up and rub you down.”_ He rose, spreading his legs into a neat, flexible split on the last word.

_“Down, down, down!”_ Angel bounced himself lightly with each repetition.

_“And thats just one small fraction, of the main attraction…”_ He held his hands up, flexing his fingers enticingly and rising up to stand at his full height.

 _“You need a friendly hand, oh I need action!”_ He launched himself back onto the pole, swinging around with abandon.

_“Toucha, toucha, toucha, touch me!”_ Eyes closed, Angel started really getting into his stride, tossing his head back.

 _I wanna be dirty!”_ He announced, his body wracked with trembles.

 _Thrill me, chill me, fullfill me!”_ He buried both top hands in his hair, his face painted with ecstasy.

 _Creature of the night!”_ He called, sinking onto his back.

_“Toucha, toucha, toucha, touch me!”_ Cheered the invisible voice.

_“I wanna be dirty!”_ Laughed it’s partner.

_“Thrill me, chill me fullfill me,”_ Whoever this singer was, she was shrill, almost what Alastor imagined a pixie would sound like. Before he squashed them, that is.

_“Creature of the night!”_ The second voice was deeper but still noticeably feminine.

_“Oh, toucha, toucha, toucha, TOUCH ME!”_ Angel was in full swing now, lifting his body up off of the floor like he was being racked with pleasure.

 _“I wanna be dirty!”_ Husk was tempted to reach down and cover Niffty’s ears, her eye uncomfortably large.

_“Thrill me, chill me, fullfill me,_

_“Creature of the night!”_ Angel’s voice trilled. Oh God, was he… Having an _ORGASM_?

_“Creature of the night!” ‘Oh what fresh hell is this?”_ Vaggie thought, shooting a horrified glance at the phone.

_“Creature of the night!”_ Charlie looked over as well, her already pale face going the shade of sour milk.

_“Creature of the night!”_ A voice that was all too reminiscent of Alastor’s echoed through the room and the shadow retreated, apparently having heard enough.

_“Creature of the night!”_ Husk couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled away from the door, looking like he was having a small conniption.

_“Creature of the night!”_ Vaggie looked away as well, hiding her burning red face behind her hands.

_“Creature of the night!”_ Husk had to reach back in blindly and yoinked Niffty away from the door. Her pencil had become a blur against the page as her handwriting became more and more of a mess.

_“Creature of the night!”_ Charlie was the last to pull away, still captivated but she peeked back in to watch the finale.

_“CREATURE OF THE NIGHT!”_ Angel shouted, slumping against the floor, panting with a look of blissed out pleasure over his face. He was panting hard, his golden tooth glinting in the light overhead and looking like he had just been ravished to within an inch of his life.

After a short pause, broken only by the sound of him catching his breath, Angel pulled himself upright and collected his phone. He tucked it back into his chest fluff, pushing his hair back from his face and letting it flop back into place. He had his back to the floor but, as he began to disassemble his equipment, he peeked over his shoulder and called.

“Hey princess, if you really wanted to watch, you could have just asked! I can still swing you some tickets, if you want?”

The only reply he got was a rush of hissed cursing and the sounds of feet hurrying away, earning another hearty cackle from Angel. Did they really think he didn’t know that they were watching him? He always knew when he had people’s eyes on him.


	2. Act 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lights come on, the stage is set and the show will go on! 
> 
> But there's an odd addition to the usual audience.

Chapter 2

Act 1

It was a long, hard (‘ _HA’)_ , exhausting process but at long last, the night had arrived. Angel had spent the entire day at the studio, rehearsing everything from top to bottom and making sure that the entire thing was running as slick as oil. Vox had poked his flat head in a few times, soon shooed away by the choreographer but the intent was clear.

He was there to keep an eye on everyone. Lest they think of stepping out of line and ruining the debut of the new club. Angel still didn’t know much about this new joint but he knew that it’s focus was way off of the usual mixture of burlesque and stripping that Valentino’s places were known for. From what he could make out from the gossip going around amongst the other performers, it was a departure, taking an approach more towards classy shows than customers getting to fuck their favourite performer backstage.

The first tip off had been the song selection. Upon further investigation, Angel found that each of them were from musicals from all over history. All of them were after his time but most of them were set around the time or after he’d died and he got the general idea. The costumes he’d been given, brand new ones no less, reflected the period. The first one he would be wearing tonight was probably the one that sat comfortably in the middle between sexy and conservative. It was a black number, shorts, waistcoat and thigh-high heels connected to the bottom of the shorts with garters. If you added some fringe, it would have looked like an offshoot of those flapper costumes he had seen in old movies. He’d been told to keep his make up minimal, just flash eyelashes, bright red lipstick and a new kind of eyeliner that, when applied, made his eyes look even sharper than usual.

All in all, it was promising to be quite the enlightening show.

He was tugging on his garter, making sure that it was secure, with one pair of hands and trying to angle the bowler hat he’d placed carefully on his head so that it shadowed his face right with the other when the call came down the line that caught his attention. At first it seemed to be the same nobodies that frequented a lot of Valentino’s openings but then a name jumped out at him.

“Princess…”

Princess… _PRINCESS?!_

They couldn’t meant **THAT** princess, right? Not Hell’s princess. There was no way that she would be seen in at a place like this! He had been joking when he had said that she could get tickets after he had caught them watching him rehearse but had she really gone through with it? Would she bring anyone else with her? Her girlfriend/bodyguard(/attack dog, if you asked Angel) never left her side and Husk may be bribed with the possibility of an open bar but Niffty? No way! This wouldn’t be her kind of scene.

The Radio Demon… That was where all bets were off.

He knew the guy had a fondness for musicals and had been watching him, like the rest of those peeping toms, but Vox was going to here. There had to be a law, some kind of rule that decreed that Alastor and Vox couldn’t be within five miles of each other without one trying to start a fight.

If that happened here and Val found out that it was because of him, he was going to be going all-night shoots for months! He snatched his phone up from his dressing table top, his fingers flying across the screen to message Charlie but as soon as he had sent it, a knock came at his door.

“Angel, it’s time. You need to be onstage now.”

“Urgh, coming. I’ll be right there.”

With a final tug on his clothes and a hope that Charlie really wasn’t going to be here, he dashed out of his dressing room, his heels clicking on the floor as he rushed past the backstage staff, heading straight for the stage.

Behind him, two showgirls that he had only met when they had start rehearsing this thing were dolled up in costumes similar to his own but instead of garters and thigh-high boots, they were wearing lower heels and fishnets. Unsurprisingly, Val must be going for putting him in the spotlight. He never would have thought that the pimp would have a flair for theatrics beyond his fashion sense but it seemed that there were still some surprises yet to be revealed. Approaching the stage, he saw a trio of stools had been set up and as the band muffled their footsteps with a soft smoky tune that could have been anything from jazz or a slow swing, they climbed into position.

His practice already beginning to take over his actions, Angel waited for the moment of truth. For when the curtain would rise, and he’d be able to see who was in the audience. There would be a moment before the spotlights blinded him and that would be his moment to look over the crowd and see for himself. Was the princess really here and had she brought the others with her?

The lights on stage went and Angel took a deep breath, sliding seamlessly into his favourite persona. The untouchable, flawless performer who had your heart in the palm of his hand from the moment he opened his eyes. Sitting facing the side, with one leg over the other and a hand resting on his knee, his head was down, the hat covering his face in shadow.

He heard the music stop completely, the patter of small, trotting hooves moving across the stage and then the faintly accepted voice of the MC. He’d seen the little critter moving around the stage when he and the girls had been rehearsing and the shrimpy thing had been the recipient of many a boot to the head and incensed slap across the face for getting too close to him or the other performers.

Now the light was on him and he had to behave.

Val was bound to be right in the front, perfect place to watch his performers shake what they had… and the best place to notice when they fucked up.

“And now, meine Damen und Herren... Mesdames et

Messieurs... Ladies and Gentlemen- The Theatre

Is proud to present a most talented young lad from Hell.

Yes- Right here in hell! I give you- and don't forget

To give him back when you're finished with him,

The Toast of the Circle of Lust... Angel Dust!!”

There was a smattering of scattered applause, the curtain rose and Angel peeked out from underneath the brim of his hat

Where were they? Were they here?

Val was in front, no surprise. He could see Vox there too. It was impossible to miss the glare of his screen, even if he tried to turn it down.

The next two rows of tables and booths were clear too but there, at the back, there was the edge of Vaggie’s bow. Where she was, there had to be Charlie. Yep, there she was. Right next to her girlfriend, eyes shining even as the light focused on Angel, was Charlie. Had she brought the rest along with her? That remained to be seen.

But first,

He had a show to put on.

_“Mama…”_ He breathed, lifting up his head a fraction, one eye peeking out from underneath his hat.

_“Thinks I'm living in a convent,_

_A secluded little convent,_

_In the southern part of France…”_ Two fingers trailed down his raised leg, feeling every eye follow his movements. The line earned a little chuckle and he shifted in his seat, switching his legs over.

_“Mama…_

_Doesn't even have an inkling,”_ He waved his hand in front of his face, as if he was waving away the idea.

_That I'm working in a nightclub,_

_In a pair of lacy pants…”_ One leg stretched down to stand on the stage and then the other. He crouched, running his second pair of hands over his ass and giving the waistband a teasing snap, certain that everyone in the building could hear it.

He locked eyes with Valentino, visible even through his glasses.

The drums dropped.

_“So please sir…_

_If you run into my… mama,_

_Don't reveal my indiscretion._

_Give a working boy_

_A chance!”_ Rising with the line, both sets of arms out wide.

_“Hush up, don't tell mama,_

_Shush up, don't tell mama,_

_Don't tell mama, whatever you do…”_ Kicking one leg behind him and the other out in front, he came back to the stool again.

_“If you had a secret,_

_you bet, I would keep it.”_ He drew a cross over his chest with one finger, flashing the top of the pink heart that decorated his fur.

_“I would never tell on you!”_ He shot out a wink, tumbling backwards and landing on his feet, standing straight.

_“I'm breaking every promise that I gave her…”_ The trumpets blasted along and he fed off of the eyes gazing at him.

_“So won't you kindly do a boy a great big favor?”_ Stepping out again, he placed one foot on top of the stool.

_“And please, my sweet potat-er,_

_Keep this from the mater,_

_Though my dance is not against the law!”_ Not here in hell, it wasn’t. Flipping his bowler back to reveal his face completely, he was certain that this time, he got sight of a

_“You can tell my papa, that's alright_

_'cuz he comes in here every night,”_ Another wink, a playful toss of his head and the crowd went nuts.

_“But don't tell mama what you saw….”_ He drew out the last word, putting his leg down, one hand on his stool and pulling it back as the other girls took his spot in centre stage, singing in unison.

_“Mama,_

_Thinks I'm on a tour of Europe,_

_With a couple of my school chums,_

_And a lady chaperone!” A_ ngel thought they might be sisters, who else could pull off synchronized singing like that.

 _“Hello darlings!”_ Angel called from behind them, waving like they really were old friends seeing each other for the first time in years.

_“Mama,_

_Doesn't even have an inkling,_

_That I left them all in Antwerp,_

_And I'm touring on my own.”_ They moved apart and Angel took his rightful place in front, leaving his stool behind.

The music became soft again and Angel’s voice took on a soft, pleading tone, his hands pressed together and clutched to his chest.

_“So please sir,_

_If you run into my mama…_

_Don't reveal my indiscretion…_

_Just leave well enough alone!” His gold tooth flashed in the spotlight and the music picked up with singing piano keys._

_“Hush up, don't tell mama,_

_Shush up, don't tell mama,_

_Don't tell mama, whatever you do…”_ The girls joined him, coming together on either side. Together they moved in unison.

_“If you had a secret, you bet I would keep it,_

_I would never tell on you…”_ They turned together, curling one leg around the other and then dropping to the ground, one leg outstretched to the side. Bringing it back, they stood, Angel pressing his hands together.

_“You wouldn't want to get me in a pickle,”_

_And have her go and cut me off without a nickel.”_ He pouted, batting his eyelashes at the audience, getting a loud wolf-whistle in return.

_“So let's trust one another, keep this from my mother,_

_Though I'm still as pure as mountain snow!” ‘Ha! That’s rich!’_ Angel thought. The last pure he’d had anything to do with was that coke he’d had when he’d gotten in that morning.

_“You can tell my uncle, here and now!”_

_'cuz he's my agent anyhow!”_ He held his hand out towards Vox, smirking at the sudden flash of colour that went across the screen.

_“But don't tell mama what you know!”_ The girls chorused behind him.

_“You can tell my grandma, suits me fine_

_Just yesterday she joined the line!”_ He announced, bouncing on his heels. Little steps forwards, then back, bringing it back to his beginning position.

_“But don't tell mama what you know!”_ Came the repeat. Just a little bit longer.

_“You can tell my brother, that ain't grim_

_'cuz if he squeals on me, I'll squeal on him!”_ He dragged his finger across his throat quickly, grinning maliciously down at his audience.

_“But don't tell mama, bitte!”_ Ugh German, his least favourite part of this song.

_“Don't tell mama, please sir!”_ If he listened, he could hear the girls coming closer and bringing his seat with them.

_“Don't tell mama what you know!”_ He moved back, turning his back on the audience and swinging his hips on his way back to where his stool was.

_“Shh! shh!”_ The girls insisted, gesturing for the audience to be quiet, to keep their secret.

 _If you see my mummy, mum's the word.”_ Crouching, propping up his elbow on his knee and a finger over his mouth, he shot the audience a final wink before the curtain went down and the audience, though small from what he had seen, erupted into thunderous applause, hoots of praise and whistles.

The MC jumped on stage, singing Angel’s praises as well as the sisters, Angel mentally confirmed, but he was already headed backstage. He still had another costume to change into and a whole new routine to remember.

He dodged around various figures headed towards and back from the stage, intent on going straight to his dressing room and getting ready for the next performance. Checking the clock, he had ten, maybe 15 minutes before his next song, during which the guests would be able to refresh their drinks and could mingle with each other whilst another employee kept them entertained with a softer song, a ‘palate-cleanser’ as he called it.

He slipped into his room as soon as his name came into view and set to work, one pair of arms pulling off the top half of his costume and another pair finding the second costume that he had set aside on a chair. He wiped off his makeup, glad that the request had been just for a simple set up this time, and was halfway between pulling on his next ensemble and tugging off the bottom half of the previous one when he heard a soft, hissing voice calling his name. He jumped and called for the person to show themselves, thinking that someone was pulling a trick on him to make him late.

Didn’t these shit heads have anything better to do than to try and get him in trouble?

He was shocked to find that, instead of coming through his door, a familiar looking shadow slid into the room through the vent on the wall.

“A-Al! What are you doing in here?” He didn’t know if this creature had a direct pipeline to Alastor but, for once, he was glad that he was still mostly dressed. Given Alastor’s apparently allergy to all things involving the naked body, seeing him in the nude would probably have given his shadow a conniption. The bottom of the creature’s face split into a an ear-to-ear grin reminiscent of Alastor’s in a way that immediately made Angel nervous but the eyes of the being were warmer, with less malevolent intent behind them.

“I saw your performance and I wanted to find you to give my thoughts in person. No harm in that, right?” Said the shadow in

“Uhhh, I guess. But you should get out of here quick before I have to go back on stage. Don’t blame me if you see something that you wish you hadn’t.” He flashed a wink and turned back to his mirror, dabbing on a new layer of lipstick as he adjusts his clothes, straightening up when he was fully dressed again and spotting the shadow in the corner of his mirror. It had its back turned to him while he was getting dressed and Angel cackled to himself, turning around to face the thing.

“So what did you think of my little show?” Angel teased, leaning back against his dressing table.

“It was surprisingly tasteful. I wouldn’t think something of that calibre was possible for you after that little preview you gave us before.” The Shadow intoned. It didn’t seem to be moving it’s mouth so was Alastor using it like… Oh fuck! Of course he was! He was using his shadow to BROADCAST what he was saying!

“Ha!” Angel’s laugh cracked through the air like a whip. “I knew you were watching.”

“Don’t misunderstand me, my friend. I only watched it to satisfy my own curiosity after seeing everyone else gathered around the door. Were it another way, I wouldn’t have approached that door if Lucifer himself made me.” Angel snorted. Bullshit. He was totally watching and Angel didn’t care how much he tried to deny it. He was irresistible when he got his ass on stage.

“But, regardless, I found tonight’s performance to be quite entertaining. I’m quite pleased that Charlie made me come here. She did appreciate the effort you put into making your invitations… unique.”

“Wait… I didn’t give any-?” Angel tried to say but he was cut off by the sound of knuckles rapping on the door. He paled underneath his fur and waved frantically for the shadow to go. When he looked back at it, he saw that it was gone.

“Angel-caaaaakes?” Called Valentino’s voice from outside.

“Uhm, come in boss! I’m almost done.” Angel called back, mentally preparing himself for the encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I can explain! I absolutely meant to have this chapter up last week but I wrote half of it and realised that I was too tired to keep going! I can't really explain it now but I was so tired and I had a lot of the chapter left to write that I knew this was going to take me a while so I had to postpone it. Sorry!
> 
> But it's up now and everyone's happy, including me. Cabaret feels like the platypus of musicals. You don't remember that it exists until you are actually presented with the fact that it exists and you just fall in love with it. Angel's outfit is inspired by Liza Minelli's from the movie (because of course) but, oddly enough, the song isn't from the movie, it's from the stage version and it still slaps!
> 
> Anyway, the song count for this chapter is only 2 because I could probably sing this in my sleep by now.
> 
> You can always find me at SaintedStars on Tumblr and any and all comments, kudos or bookmarks are always appreciated.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!


	3. Act 3

Chapter 3

Act 2

Looking down from the vent that the creature had vanished into, Angel crouched by his dressing table, trying to look like he had just been putting the final touches on his look. Valentino didn’t look favourably on anyone trying to get in on HIS performers when they were supposed to be getting ready for their work. Even if the person peeking in on them wasn’t caught, the performers could still be punished for their ‘laziness’ and whatever other excuse Valentino would pull out of his ass to assign them extra shifts and corner duty. It was an unfair system that lashed out at everyone except for Valentino.

Angel watched the door swing open from the reflection in the mirror and the immense form of his employer swept into the room. Valentino had switched out his usual ‘pimp’ attire for a surprisingly subtle red shirt and black pants, a black coat with a thick white collar on top of the array.

“Angel-cakes… you’re lookin’ real sweet tonight. This last lil piece is just… Mmm-mmm…” Valentino mumbled, meeting Angel’s eyes in the mirror and his teeth flashed in the low light of the room. Angel’s gaze shifted to himself, taking a deep breath through his nose to steel himself before he turned around and met his boss’ eyes, plastering on his best ‘good little whore’ expression. Sauntering forwards, he walked into Valentino’s open arms and draped himself against the pimp’s chest, hitching up his long skirt to allow Val’s knee slip between his legs.

“You know I only wanna make ya happy Val.” He cooed obediently. Being this close to the moth, he could smell the smoke of his cigarettes on him mixing with the bourbon that he must have been drinking.

“You do sweetheart. You flashing those sweet legs of yours on stage just…” Valentino’s hand drifted down from where it had been on Angel’s back to trailing over his leg.

“Did I look good Daddy?” Angel asked pleadingly. Begging for the moth’s affirmation made his stomach roil but he had to keep him happy. Wouldn’t do for him to appear on stage with bruises.

“Better than good Angel-baby. I knew I made the right decision on who should be headliner. Keep this up and I might just make you a permanent feature here. Would you like that baby?” Valentino crooned, his claws dragging along the back of Angel’s leg, pushing up his skirt to reach it. Not hard enough to be painful but with the slightest amount of pressure to imply a threat.

Angel’s ears perked up. Was he being real? Was he really going to give Angel a chance away from the studio? He could really be the headliner here at this new club? It’d be a break from the lights, from the pretending, from Val…

“Really daddy? You’d let me do something like that?” He asked breathlessly, barely keeping the enthusiasm from his voice. Couldn’t appear over-eager or Valentino would twist it against him and this was a one-in-a-lifetime situation.

“I might but you’ll have to put on a good show for me baby. You’ve got another song to perform and there are a few people in the audience that you will need to impress for me.”

Trust Valentino to change the subject and tack on a condition to it.

“Who is it? Someone I know?” Angel asked, playing innocent. He knew very-fucking-well who it was that Valentino wanted to impress.

“I think you might. It’s the Radio Demon and some of your friends from that hotel…” Valentino pushed Angel off of his lap and took hold of Angel’s chin, pushing his face upwards. Angel met his eyes, though reluctantly. Valentino was scanning his face so Angel tried to keep his expression as innocent as possible.

“What’s the next song?” Valentino asked, letting go of Angel’s face, and Angel, relieved to be free, reached over to where the set list was hanging, pinned to the top of his mirror and handed it to Valentino, letting him peruse whilst Angel touched up his makeup. The moth’s grip hadn’t been enough to bruise but he brushed a fresh layer of blush just in case. It stood out against his fur and made him look flushed, almost embarrassed which was what the next song called for.

“Very good Angel-cakes…” Valentino tossed the paper away and, taking advantage of Angel being bent over, swatted his ass, making the spider jump in shock. It hadn’t hurt, unlike usually, but there was a both a threat and a promise behind the swing. Fuck up and a little love tap will be the least of your worries. Do well and you’ll be rewarded.

“Such a good boy… I know you’re going to knock them out but…” Valentino paused, looking over Angel with a considering expression. The Moth reached out and tugged at one of the strings holding Angel’s top together.

In keeping with the theme of the next song, Angel’s new outfit was a white over-the-bust corset top held together with thick strings and a black skirt that was uncharacteristically long for him and only showed the barest part of his shoes. Valentino tugged at the string and for a second, Angel was scared that it would be deemed ‘too loose’. He would have to undo the whole thing again and tighten it again, which would take time that he didn’t have.

“Watch what you eat Angel cakes… That look works but you have to be careful.” Valentino murmured but pulled his hand away.

From an inner pocket of his coat, Valentino pulled out a dime bag that made Angel’s palms begin to itch. “In case you needed a little help.” Tossing it over his shoulder, Angel put out a hand to catch it and, like that, he was alone again.

“Christ…” Angel breathed, looking down at the bag in his hand. Two little blue pills were inside. On instinct, Angel knew what they were.

Ecstasy. Of course. It wouldn’t be something like PCP or coke. Val wanted him to be aware of what the fuck he was doing. This wasn’t another strip joint, it was someplace respectable. Couldn’t have the performers be coked out of their minds.

Ecstasy… the name for it on the street was Molly…

 _Molly…_ He missed Molly. She would have ripped Val’s arm off before he got any ideas about touching him. Angel remembered how the pair of them would pool their money together as kids and buy records to play, pretending that they had made it to the big time and were performing on a real stage. Molly would be the gangster in Nissy’s old trilby and Angel would play the moll, decked out in a pair of heels and one of his sister’s old dresses.

Then their father had found them at it. Angel could still remember the beating that had ensued.

Never on Molly. His pops would have been elated that she was playing at being a part of the ‘family business’ but Angel had gotten the seven fucks beaten out of him. All for wearing a dress and heels. But Angel figured that his father would take any excuse to try and beat the ‘bad’ out of his unwanted son.

_Knock knock knock_

Oh shit!

“Y-Yeah?” Angel called out, pulling himself back to the present and he swore when he saw that his face was stained with black streaks. He hadn’t realised that he had been crying! He ripped out a face wipe and swiped at the make up, cleaning it away as the door opened and a rabbit demon attendant peeked their head inside.

“It’s showtime.” They called as Angel reapplied mascara, eyeliner and a final dusting of blush. A final glance at the vent, a last check in the mirror and his gaze fell upon the bag.

Maybe if he took them now, they would start to kick in by the time he was onstage…

No.

He was mother-fucking Angel Dust and he could perform better than any random hussy coked off their ass while he was sober as a nun!

His famous confidence firmly in place, Angel adjusted his costume one final time and flounced past the attendant, strutting proudly down the hall as other performers flattened themselves against the walls, parting like the red sea for him to pass.

The stage had been covered by the curtain like before and Angel caught the prop umbrella that he was supposed to be using. This number called for a modicum of audience interaction and if Val wanted him to wow the Radio Demon, that was what he was going to do.

Behind him, there was a gaggle of girls that were acting as his backup and his ear picked up the sound of the band warming up to begin. The crowd were murmuring and if he really listened, he could hear Charlie’s breathless whispering, Vaggie’s soft responses and even Husk’s mumbles, when the cat didn’t have his lips wrapped around a drink. Amazingly, the one thing that he couldn’t hear that he should have was anything from Alastor.

He cleared his throat and shook himself out, putting an extra bit of air in the hopes of fluffing himself up.

The band began, the girls started to titter, the same rehearsed shit he’d heard all through the weeks it took to get to this point, and Angel sucked in a deep breath. It was almost over and he was going to knock them dead.

The curtains pulled back as the lights shone down on him. Standing in the centre of the stage, he lifted his head just enough to flash one eye.

_“There was a time, I don't know when…_

_I didn't have much time for men,_

_But this is now and that was then, I'm learning…”_ He breathed, sweeping the umbrella up to rest against his shoulder, stepping forwards.

_“A girl alone, all on her own,”_ Two of his hands curled around his bust, framing the pink heart.

_Must try to have a heart of stone,_

_So I try not to make it known, my yearning…”_ He crooned, looking wistfully over the crowd. Without the lights shining in his face, he could make out a few more faces.

_“I try to show I have no need…”_ Prancing forward, he came to the edge of the stage and sat down, perching on the edge with one leg over the other.

 _“I really do - I don't succeed…”_ His expression turned from wistful to inviting, smirking and confident in full force.

_“So… let's… briiiiing… on the men,_

_And let the fun begin!_

_A little touch of sin,_

_Why wait another minute?”_ He jumped to his feet again, arms outstretched, all attention on him.

_“Step this way, it's time for us to play!”_ He kicked out a leg, flashing the red pumps and a hint of his tights from underneath the long skirt.

_“They say we may not pass this way again_

_So let's waste no more time;_

_Bring on the men!”_ All four hands curled into inviting gestures as the girls behind him filed down the steps and started picking out tables. Valentino already had two girls by his side so his table was to be left alone but everyone else was free game.

_“I always knew, I always said,_

_That silk and lace in black and red_

_Will drive a man right off his head, it's easy….”_ One hand dragged up his skirt as he lifted a leg, exposing the shining black tights covering his legs. A few gasps of surprise could be heard and he knew a few of them were from the audience and some were from the girls. They weren’t the main focus but they did their jobs just fine.

_“So many men, so little time_

_I want them all, is that a crime?”_ He asked, knowing he’d get an answer if he’d done his job right.

_“No!”_ Cried a voice that could only belong to a certain Prince Stolas and Angel had to suppress a grin. Of course, that old bird would be here.

_“I don't know why they say that I'm too easy….”_ Angel reclined, tossing back his head.

“Not you Angel-cakes, not you.” Valentino called and obediently, Angel hopped down from the stage. The spotlight followed him as he circled around Valentino’s table as he continued to sing.

_“They make me laugh, they make me cry…”_ He and Valentino’s eyes met for a moment.

 _“They make me sick, so God knows why…”_ He crooned on, launching into the chorus again, joined in by his fellow dancers.

_“We say, "Bring on the men_

_And let the fun begin!_

_“A little touch of sin_

_Why wait another minute?”_ He happily pranced around the tables, pretending to flirt with the occupants.

_“Step this way, it's time for us to play_

_They say we may not pass this way again_

_So let's waste no more time;_

_Bring on the men!”_ He announced, shaking out his hair again.

_“They break your heart…_

_They steal your soul…”_ He glanced over his shoulder at Valentino who only grinned at him.

_“Take you apart_

_And yet they somehow make you whole!_

_So what's the game?_

_I suppose a rose by any other name…”_ He trailed off, plucking a single rose from one of the displays that stood on plinths around the place.

 _The perfume and the prick's the same!”_ He pretended to prick his finger on the stem of the brilliantly red bloom.

There was a musical interlude now and he took full advantage, teasing the audience by offering them the flower then snatching it away and blowing them a teasing kiss as they cursed him. Even Stolas fell for this trick but he didn’t seem upset, instead pretending to catch the offered kiss. Angel made sure to avoid the table the Radio Demon and the Hazbin group were sat at, waiting to build up anticipation.

_“I like to have a man for breakfast each day…”_ He trailed off comfortably, dragging two fingers over the table cloth of a nearby table.

 _“I'm very social and I like it that way…”_ One hand was pressed to his chest, sending flirtatious looks over his shoulder.

 _“By late mid-morning I need something to munch…”_ He clicked his teeth, licking his lips invitingly.

_“So I ask over two men for lunch…”_

He picked up his steps, picking his way directly over to the table where Charlie and her crew, Alastor included, were seated. Now was the real moment of truth.

_“And men are mad about my afternoon teas,_

_They're quite informal, I just do it to please,”_ He reached over and played with Vaggie’s bow just to screw with her, moving quickly away to pinch Charlie’s cheeks.

_“Those triple sandwiches are my favourite ones,_

_I'm also very partial to buns!”_ Pointing at a furious-looking Husk and an indifferent Alastor and then at himself, Angel giggled madly, running away before he got into too much trouble.

_“My healthy appetite gets strongest at night_

_My at-home dinners are my men-friends' delight…”_ He flounced away, kicking up his skirt and showing off his legs and even flashing his garters and panties to the surprised gasps of his audience.

_“When I invite the fellas over to dine_

_They all come early, in bed by nine!”_ He arrived back at the stage and, with Valentino’s offered hand, he was helped back on stage for the finale.

_“So let's bring on the men_

_And let the fun begin!”_ The other girls marched away from their customers, coming back on stage to join Angel.

_“A little touch of sin_

_Why wait another minute?_

_Step this way, it's time for us to play!”_

They went quiet, giving Angel space to bring the song to a climax.

_“They say we may not pass this way again!_

_So let's waste no more time..._

_Bring on the men!”_ He held out the last note. The girls behind him kept singing loudly.

_“Big men, small men_

_Short men, tall men_

_I guess that means almost all men!_

_I'm a player, long as they are men, men, men!”_ On the final word, they stamped their feet on stage, arms outstretched and standing in the centre, Angel. The star!

A pause followed the end of the music but it was shattered by a roar of applause as the crowd rose as one from their seats and gave them a standing ovation. Angel sank into a low bow and was greeted with a shower of roses, thrown at the stage from all directions. He caught one from the air, one that he had seen Valentino throw and kissed it’s deep scarlet petals, tucked it into the front of his top, nestling it in the middle of his top.

He took another bow and missed the way that Alastor’s eyes were glowing with interest.

This… This promised to be very entertaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. Craps! That intro part, before the song, took for-fucking-ever to write! Valentino, you are a bastard and writing you being scary should NOT be this fun! Ho my God! I am absolutely exhausted and I actually have a very special announcement. 
> 
> I've decided that I'm going to make this into a full-blown SERIES!
> 
> The song count of this chapter is an absolute 0! I could probably sing this song in my sleep but I didn't need to hear it once whilst I was writing this!
> 
> You can always find me at SaintedStars on Tumblr and any and all comments, kudos or bookmarks are always appreciated.
> 
> See you all soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yeah, that's right! Your eyes are not deceiving you. It's a brand new fic AND it's got 3 chapters!
> 
> I took December off so that I could see 2020 off with a hearty "Fuck you!" And now I am back and raring to go!
> 
> I've had these ideas rattling around in my brain for a while (because I am a filthy whore for musicals) and I couldn't find anything to pair them with until I was hit with the inspiration thunderbolt that is Hazbin Hotel. Thank you Vivziepop, you magnificent human being!
> 
> I hope you all are looking forward to the next few weeks because that's when the next chapters will be coming out. I'm very proud of this first one (that I banged out in a day, woo!) and I hope that the next ones will be just as good.
> 
> The song count was just 1 and I'm positive that it's going to get even higher before I'm done with this fic!
> 
> You can always find me at SaintedStars on Tumblr and any and all comments, kudos or bookmarks are always appreciated.
> 
> See you all soon!


End file.
